


Faceless

by dabs_into_oblivion



Series: gendrya [9]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-28 20:17:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18763453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dabs_into_oblivion/pseuds/dabs_into_oblivion
Summary: A decade or two post-canon, Arya arrives at Storm's End, but there's something off about her.





	Faceless

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NefelibataNerd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NefelibataNerd/gifts).



> @Nefelibatanerd commented the premise of this fic on another fic and i thought, why the hell not? it's half their idea and half me exploring what might happen if arya and gendry give themselves a chance to mature. enjoy!

"My lord."

He can't close his mouth, can't stop his hands from imagining how she feels, how her curves have changed. "My lady."

She smiles, and that's odd, because she never smiled that way before, all teeth and flirtatious eyes.

"Why are you here?" He's not being rude, but he hasn't seen her since he proposed, and hasn't heard word of her since she killed Cersei Lannister. (The songs say she strangled her; Gendry prefers to imagine her using Needle.)

She shifts, hands behind her back, stance uncertain. "I'm here to see you, of course."

"Of course," he agrees, shooting a glance at his master-at-arms. "Would my lady care to join me for dinner?"

\----------------

She keeps shooting him glances across the table. She's taking small bites, dabbing her mouth with the square of linen, and all he can think is, that's not her. But then she calls him stupid and bull-headed and he's not so sure.

\----------------

He awakes to a hand over his mouth. "Shh," whispers a very familiar voice.

He's still stronger than her, though, so he sits up without much struggle and peels her hand off. "Seven hells, Arya. What's so urgent you didn't tell me before?"

"Before?" She stares at him.

He rubs his eyes. Mayhaps he's hallucinating. "When we ate dinner."

Her eyes widen. "It's worse than I thought. They're already here."

He sits up straighter as she climbs off the bed and begins to pace. "They?"

She rounds on him. "I don't know how they found your name, but the House of Black and White of Braavos thinks you're the reason I left them, and they've sent an assassin wearing my face. To kill you."

There's a lot that's confusing about this, but -- "How'd they get your face if you're still here?"

"It's not exactly my face," she says, "but it's close enough to fool almost anyone."

"Certainly fooled me," he agrees. "The assassin is three doors to the left."

\----------------

At breakfast, Gendry has a difficult time explaining the body in his guest bed, especially when a very much alive and healthy Arya Stark appears and sits at his right, breaking off hunks of bread with her hands and generally being coarse and unrefined. Eventually he gives up and just sits and watches her. He could watch her forever, he realizes.

She glances up from her plate. "What?"

He startles. "Just thinking about wars, and kings, and families."

"You're not married," she says, taking another huge bite.

He shakes his head. "Never found anyone else."

"But you took the lordship."

"Aye, I took it." He stands, paces. "I figured if it meant that much to the Dragon Queen, and she meant that much to Jon, I'd do it. I would have done anything for him, then." He pauses, then, softly, "And you."

She is silent.

"But you knew that, because I was a drunk fool and didn't think before I opened my mouth."

She shakes her head. "No, Gendry -- "

"Don't tell me what I did wasn't stupid," he growls. "I dream about it every night, dream about doing it better, about not calling you a fucking lady -- "

"If you were stupid, so was I!" She's standing, raising her voice to match his. "I ran from you, ran away from my feelings because I thought killing would help, but it didn't." She swallows. "Do you know what I felt, after I killed her?" Her voice is barely above a whisper, now. "I felt wrong. I felt empty. I felt like I wasn't me anymore."

He turns, then, to look at her, and the intensity of his gaze almost knocks her over. Almost.

"If I asked you again, now," he says, taking a step toward her, "would your answer be the same?"

She pushes her chair out, rounds the corner of the table. "Gendry, I've loved you since before I knew what love was." She steps into his space, taking his face in her hands, taking his mouth with hers. In between, she whispers, "I know you never wanted to change me or make me be something I'm not."

He's shaking, she realizes, as his arms rise to cradle her. He pulls back enough to look at her. "Then marry me."

Her smile threatens to split her face open. "Aye, I'll marry you."


End file.
